I See You
by TheVelvetRose 1120
Summary: Tony and Steve don't get along on the best of days and hate each other's guts on the worst. It's been a little while since the aliens invaded and they've grown used to each other's presence. They've become tolerating teammates. It was about time they were almost friends. Slightly AU.


**A/N. So hi! This is just a little something I wrote down after I heard about Civil War and was in dire need of Steve and Tony bromance feels. This has not been edited and could be considered AU since some of the things mentioned don't match up with the MCU. Takes place sometime after the Battle of New York. I hope you guys enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer - I don't own anything. All the characters, gadgets, technology, etc belong to Marvel and Disney and Stan Lee, etc.**

Steve was in the gym when he got the call. "Captain, I need all available hands on deck. Now."

"Roger that." Steve unwrapped his hands and zipped up his duffel bag before heading out.

Tony was in his workshop when he got the call. "Stark, I need all available hands on deck. Now."

"Hey, woah," Tony responded without missing a beat, waving his wrench in the air mindlessly. "Sorry, Nick, I don't do hand jobs. And even if I did, you couldn't afford me."

"Just get here, Stark," Fury ground out.

"Well if you need me _that_ badly..." Tony was already in the suit and rearing to go.

Captain America and Iron Man met literally on the deck. Tony landed just behind the soldier and let his mask peel away so that his whole head was exposed. He kept stride with Steve easily, but only because he was in the armour which, ironically enough, allowed him to move faster despite its weight. "Hey Capsicle. Are you late? Cause showing up at the same as me is usually a bad sign."

Steve was in a foul mood when he got the call and he _really_ didn't want to deal with Stark right now. He picked up the pace, hoping the billionaire would get the hint.

He didn't. "Of course, there is the less likely option that I'm on time... how scary a thought is that, am I right?"

No reaction.

"Geez, what crawled up your ass and froze your funny bone? Besides the ice, I mean."

Steve's nose twitched in irritation as he rounded the corner inside the helicarrier. He would not dignify that rhetorical question with an answer.

"Are you really going to leave me to guess because you probably don't want to hear the creative and frankly dirty things my mind comes up with these days."

"You say that like it's a recent development," Steve shot back through clenched teeth.

"Ahh there's the banter I was looking for! Though a bit sharper than I anticipated. Something wrong, Rip Van Wrinkle?"

"Just stay out of it!" Steve barked.

"Again, what crawled up your ass?"

"What crawled into your mouth and ate your filter?"

Tony shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe the same thing that's up your ass right now." He paused. He wrinkled his nose. "Forget I said that."

"Done."

Steve entered the briefing room first, followed immediately by Tony. Steve approached Director Fury, the only other person in the room, and very nearly saluted. But he didn't. Because he wasn't in the military anymore. "Sir? You called?"

"No, we just both got that instinct to come to the helicarrier dressed in our colourful gear to willingly spend time together," Tony retorted sarcastically.

"I wasn't asking you!" Steve shot over his shoulder.

"You still haven't answered my question about your ass."

"_Ignoring_ both of you," Fury interrupted without batting an eye, "I have a mission for you."

"What about the others?" Steve asked.

"Romanoff and Barton are in deep cover in Portugal, Banner's in India, and Thor's on Asgard. You're all we've got." The Director dropped a thick folder of files on the desk with a loud _thud_. "This is everything you need to know. You can read it on the plane to Paris. Consider yourselves debriefed."

"You couldn't have emailed this to us and just sent us directly to the city of love?" Tony, always the techno-geek of the group, wanted to know.

"You want me to hire a bunch of people to type this shit up and _then_ email it to you?" Fury nailed him with his one good eye. And his other not-so good eye. Tony couldn't really tell.

"Fair point." His helmet rebuilt itself over his head. "See ya there, Captain Freeze."

Steve's eyebrow twitched.

Fury stepped forward. "You're taking the jet."

"But I'm faster!" Tony complained.

"You're also ostentatious. This is a _stealth_ mission."

"Then what the hell do you need me for?"

"Your the brain." He nudged his head in Steve's direction. "He's the brawn. And you need to read the debriefing. Both of you."

"I'm still taking the suit."

"Why wouldn't you? That would be stupid and idiotic. Now GO before innocent people die."

That was all the incentive Steve needed. "Sir, yes, sir!" He grabbed the folder and practically stormed out of the room towards the hangar.

Tony peeled the helmet back again. "What the hell's wrong with Grandpa?"

"GO!"

"Alright, alright! I'm going! I'm going!" Tony took off after the Captain at a jog in his very heavy and very loud armour, clinking and clanking down the hallways. He caught up to Steve and then slowed to speed-walking. "So I'm going to start guessing now."

"What?"

"About what crawled up your ass."

"Why do you care so much about what's up my ass?"

"Aha! So you admit there's something there!"

Steve huffed. "Regardless, why do you care?"

"Because frankly you're treating me like shit and I'm curious to know why."

"I'm not-" He stopped and Tony ran into his back before stumbling backward. Steve turned to face him. There was something... unsettling about him and Tony realized this was the first time that night that he was seeing Steve's face. The blonde sighed behind the mask. "Look, I'm... having a bad day. Let's just leave it at that." Steve spun on his heel and stalked toward the closest jet.

Blinking a few times, Tony followed.

When they were both in the jet, Tony allowed the suit to open like a butterfly cocoon and he stepped out, appearing much shorter (which he was). He sat down across from Steve, who was already strapped in and two pages into the large folder Fury had given them. "Mind reading that aloud?" Tony asked, testing the waters.

Steve looked up. It was not an unreasonable request. This was his mission too. Sighing, Steve began to read out loud. The longer he spoke, the more information Tony gained. But not about the mission.

Steve's voice was rough and raw, like he'd been screaming a lot that day. He sounded bleak and... defeated. Tony had never heard Captain America sound defeated. It unnerved him. About four pages in, Tony cut the guy right off. "Take off your mask."

Steve stopped and looked up, blinking in surprise. Then he frowned in irritation. "Why?"

Tony's suspicions heightened as he leaned back and crossed his arms. "It's hot in here. There's no one you need to hide your identity from. And it'll ruin your hair. I mean, honestly, why not?"

Steve appeared to be struggling to find an argument. Eventually, he sighed and pulled the cowl back, running his fingers through his hair to fluff it up a bit. The strands were matted with sweat. "Happy now? Do you feel safer?"

Tony leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He looked Steve up and down. The soldier wouldn't make eye contact with him and kept his head down, staring determinedly at the papers in front of him. "Steve."

"What?" He snapped, looking up completely for the first time since boarding the jet.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Are you crying?"

Steve ducked his head again. "Of course not."

"You're sweating."

"... so?"

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"Your hands are red."

Steve looked down and sure enough, his palms were practically glowing as red as Schmidt. Steve clenched his hands into fists. "What are you implying?"

"Honestly? I have no freaking clue. Why don't you tell me?"

"I don't have to tell you anything."

"Something's bothering you."

"Yeah. You."

"While I admit that's true, there's something else. What is it?"

"Why the hell do you care?" Steve bit back.

That made Tony pause. Why _did_ he care? "I'm bored. Entertain me."

Steve ground his teeth and slammed the folder shut. "In your dreams, Stark."

"You're being an ass; you know that right? Like, more of an ass than I am. On a good day, anyway."

"I'm not being an-"

Tony shot him a look.

Steve threw the folder at him in outrage. The file smacked him in the chest and papers exploded and rained down all over the place. Steve was glaring at him and Tony realized what had thrown him off earlier. Steve's eyes were bloodshot and there were bags beneath those baby blues that could rival Tony's after... well... however long he usually went without sleep.

"Yeah, definitely being an ass."

"Shut up!" Steve was growling now. That was probably a bad sign.

"I'll shut up when you tell me what the hell is wrong with you!"

"Nothing's wrong with me and no! You won't!"

"Yes there is and- Okay, yeah, no, I won't. You got me there. But still. You can tell me."

"You're not my friend, Stark."

Ouch. "And you're not mine. We barely know each other. But your emotional state is going to compromise this mission."

"Since when do you care about missions? You don't even read the intel. Why are you even here? You're not a SHIELD agent."

"I was under the impression all of the Avengers were needed."

"So why are you still here?"

"I wasn't going to let you go in alone."

Those words hung in the air for a long time, weighing heavily on both of their shoulders. "I can take care of myself," Steve whispered.

"I know. But back-up's always nice."

"Except when they won't shut up."

Tony nodded in agreement. "Right. That's less nice. But I'm not backing you up right now. I'm trying to be your friend."

"Why? You hate me."

"I did."

"What changed?"

"For one thing, I mostly hate the version of you I made up in my head when I was four. You're obviously not that much of a douche. For another, I happen to know you don't hate me either. Well, not at first. You hate the fact that I'm here and my dad isn't."

Steve had nothing to say to that.

"So tell me. What's wrong?"

"It's none of your business."

Tony sighed. "You're as stubborn as I am, you know that?"

Steve shifted in his seat but otherwise didn't react.

"I'm not gonna shut up the whole flight so you might as well just tell me."

The blonde was steadfastly ignoring him now.

"Can you at least tell me why you can't tell me?"

"Because it hurts."

Tony's eyes widened. Did that really just work? "What hurts?"

Steve was staring at the wall to his right, away from Tony. "Everything."

Tony opened and closed his mouth like a fish. For once, he had nothing to say. And then finally: "Maybe if you talk about it, it will hurt less."

Steve looked like he was trying very hard not to cry. No tears were falling but the effort was very obvious. He didn't speak.

Tony filled the silence. He hated silences. "If I guess, will you tell me?"

No response.

"I'm going to take that as a yes. Is it about my dad?"

Nothing.

"Bucky? Aunt Peggy?"

Steve clenched both his fists and let his chin fall to his chest.

"Bingo," Tony whispered. He didn't feel all that happy that he seemed to have guessed correctly. "Steve... what about Peggy?"

There was silence for a really long time. Tony _really_ hated silences but Pepper once told him that if the pause is long and awkward enough, the other person will crack and answer your question. Turns out she was right.

Steve inhaled a shaky breath. "She- she-" He pried his fingers open one by one, completely focused on this task. When he was done, he tried again. "She's dead."

Tony dropped the few papers he'd managed to salvage from Steve's loss of control. "Aunt Peggy's... gone?"

Steve's lips were in a thin hard line as he nodded.

Throwing his hands in the air, Tony shouted: "Why wasn't I aware of this?"

"I thought you knew."

"Of course I didn't know! I'd be- I'd be in mourning! Or some form of it, at least!"

"Would I have been able to tell?"

"... no, probably not."

"Then stop yelling at me." Those words sounded like they could come from a child's mouth.

Tony stopped and looked at Steve. _Really_ looked at him. "How old are you?"

Half-confused and half-grateful at the change of topic, Steve eyed him warily. "Twenty-eight."

"Oh, okay. Phew. I thought-"

"You thought what?"

"Well, you look... good. For a ninety year old guy."

Steve blew out a harsh breath. "I'm not a kid, Stark."

"I knew that."

"You mean you know that _now_."

"Obviously you aren't a kid. I was thinking more like twenty-three."

"Well I'm-"

"Twenty-eight. Yeah, got it."

Steve twiddled his thumbs, carding his fingers through his hair every so often. He looked everywhere but at his fellow Avenger. He didn't want to talk about this – particularly not with Tony. The inventor would probably be insensitive about it and hurt his feelings more than he already had today. Just to give himself something to do, he unbuckled his seat belt and knelt on the ground to start picking up the papers he'd thrown all over the floor.

And maybe it irked him that Tony wasn't helping even though it was Steve's fault. Help would be nice. But he kept his mouth firmly shut and shuffled the papers together. Good thing they were numbered. After about five minutes of this (which was longer than Steve thought Tony could last), Cap looked up to see that the genius was busy texting.

_Of course_. Stark didn't actually care. He was just bored and looking for something to talk about. Someone to bug. Another way to jab him. Steve felt hurt and vulnerable and he didn't feel comfortable going on this mission but he was the only Avenger capable. He was determined to do his job.

Tony dropped his phone. Steve picked it up. "Here." He held it out, glancing at the screen. He was texting Pepper. For advice. About how to comfort people (yes, he could read upside down). And then Steve was touched and thought maybe Tony _did_ care.

Tony blinked. "What are you doing on the floor?"

Steve's grip on the papers tightened and he shoved the phone closer. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Picking up papers and that was a rhetorical question, wasn't it?"

Steve rolled his eyes and handed him the phone before returning to his self-afflicted game of one hundred-and-six pick-up.

"I'm sorry."

Steve was startled and whipped his head up. "Excuse me?"

Tony looked like he was physically in pain. "Don't make me say it again."

Steve furrowed his brows. "What for?"

"For... whatever I did." He waved his hands as if he could show Steve a picture he just produced in his mind. "I didn't mean to... to upset you. If I did. Or if maybe I just made it worse."

_Pepper probably told him to do that_. Steve pursed his lips. Maybe Tony really _was_ trying to help. And he could sympathize after all. He knew Peggy. Must be hurting from the news of her death even though it didn't seem like it. Steve wouldn't be surprised if the man was crying on the inside but wasn't letting it show. Steve had tried that. But this kind of pain... it was just too powerful. Maybe talking _would _help. "Tony-"

There was a loud _BANG_ and suddenly there was no door. Air exploded inside and at the same time there wasn't any because neither of them could breathe. The papers were strewn everywhere _again_ and Tony couldn't see or hear anything. All he knew was that he felt like he was screaming as his whole body struggled to yank the seat belts from the wall and fly out of the plane.

And then everything came into sharp focus.

Steve was gone. No screaming (that he heard) no body no warning. Gone.

Tony's heart flew into overdrive and he panicked. His suit! He had to go after Steve! His suit! The armour had luckily managed to land horizontally over the door and not get sucked out. But Tony couldn't reach it. "Dammit!" He fumbled with the belt and then found himself tumbling through the air until his back slammed into the armour which wrapped around him like a second skin.

Then suddenly he was falling. "JARVIS!" He activated the thrusters and swung his feet below him. He looked up. The plane was going down. But Steve... but the plane. He flew back in and grabbed both the pilot and co-pilot, one in each hand, before zooming out of there faster than you could say 'Iron Man'. That was the first time he looked down and realized they were over water. A very large expanse of it stretched as far as the eye could see – on Tony's left. To his right, he could see land. Faraway land, but land was still land.

He _really_ didn't want to abandon Steve, but he couldn't carry all three of them. He raced toward the... island... thing as fast as his thrusters could go. He dropped the two pilots on the shore from an... _acceptable_ height and shot off like a rocket back the way he came. "Jarvis, find me heat signatures!"

"I'm assuming you want human heat signatures, am I right, sir?"

"Yes, Jarvis, just do it!"

Without a word, the HUD screen changed and the information was written in red as Tony flew over the ocean and scanned for his... er, teammate. Not friend.

... Right.

He saw the quinjet's remains floating in the water – but no Steve. Tony activated the speakers. "Steve! Buddy! Where are you? Can you hear me?" And of course it had to be _freaking night time_. Why couldn't this have happened in the day, when seeing isn't a problem? "Cap?"

There was spluttering to his right. Tony zoomed over there but there was no one. He was left with no choice. The clock was ticking. "Jarvis, underwater mode."

"You haven't perfected-"

"NOW!"

The suit locked down so not even air could get in. Tony was now completely reliant on oxygen tanks he had spread out within the suit. They should last him about an hour. Hopefully he wouldn't need that long. He dove right into the water. It was really weird not feeling any different but seeing things in a murky light and meeting resistance when he tried to move. He ignored the tingling sensation in his stomach and used his thrusters to do the swimming for him, activating the flashlights on both of his shoulders.

"Come on, Steve, where are you?" He searched and he searched but he never found anything. He came up and unlocked the suit. "Jarvis, what's the temperature of the water?"

"Too cold."

... _too cold_. Shit.

"Tony!"

The billionaire froze, hovering just above the water as if he were about to dive back in. "Jarvis, that wasn't you playing trick on me, right?"

"No, Sir. It appears Captain Rogers is among the remains of the jet."

Tony was over there before Jarvis finished speaking and flew inside, swinging his legs beneath him to plop down on the floor. There, gripping the handle on the wall for dear life, was Steve Rogers. A very wet, very _blue_ Steve Rogers.

"Jesus Christ!" Tony shot forward and tried to pick him up but Steve wouldn't let go. "Come on, man, I'm here. You can let go now."

The unconscious soldier didn't respond.

"STEVE!"

Nothing.

Tony's heart was pounding as he set his friend down, splashing in the shallow water. He used his metal hands to pry Steve's frozen ones from the handle, one finger at a time. When Steve let go, his arms flopped limply into the water and Tony was having no more of that. "It's time to get you out of here." One arm under his back and the other beneath his knees, Tony carried Steve off and away from the wreckage. "Jarvis, vitals!" He barked.

"Scanning now."

"Come on, Steve. You were out of the water so you obviously didn't drown. You're too stubborn for that. Don't die on me, come on. You can't die from crashing jets _twice_." ... "Okay, that was probably really insensitive but you know me. I'm a word-whore. Except I don't get paid so that's not accurate. I tend to ramble when I'm talking to unconscious people. And conscious people too but my rambles are twice as fast and all panicky when I'm talking to unconscious people. I suppose you wouldn't really know that since we haven't interacted much."

Still nothing. But at least Tony reached ground at this point. Thing was, ground wasn't good enough. He- no, _Steve_ needed a hospital. Well, probably. He at least needed something to warm him up and a beach wasn't going to cut it. So Tony kept flying with an incredibly heavy super soldier in his arms. "Geez, how much do you _weigh?_ I'll tell you how much. A _ton_." No response. "God dammit, Steve! You're _not_ dead! Talk to me! You didn't drown! You're still breathing! So _why won't you talk to me?!_"

He must have yelled _really_ loud because Steve gave a startled jump and his eyes fluttered open. For a single, fleeting moment, Tony felt unbridled relief. Then Steve started shaking so violently that Tony could feel the tremors through the titanium alloy. A nasty coughing fit erupted from the Captain and Tony's stomach sank like a rock to his feet and he suddenly found himself lowering to the ground. Or maybe that was instinct.

He set Steve in the grass just in time for him to roll over and retch like he was trying to imitate a Chitauri. He threw up mouthful after mouthful of water and Tony really had no idea what to do. He let the helmet pull itself back and he patted Steve's shoulder awkwardly. "Let it out. Let it out." He'd definitely seen and smelled worse.

Steve finally wiped his mouth and lay face up, trying to catch his breath through nearly purple lips. "S-s-s-sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Steve. If you didn't throw that stuff up, it would've thrown _you_ for a loop." He gathered Steve in his arms again. "Don't worry, I won't get handsy. Pepper would kill me." He took off again, flying through the air in search of a hospital or... _something_.

Steve coughed and shiver and huddled closer. The metal probably wasn't helping. Steve needed body heat and _why wasn't there a friggin' building on this damn piece of land?_ "Jarvis, where are we?"

"Sir, I have his vitals."

"Give those to me first."

"Heart rate is accelerated to inhuman levels. Breathing is rapid and suggests inhaled water in the lungs. Body heat is dropping to below that which a regular human can withstand."

"It's dropping?! How is it dropping?"

"The ice-like texture of the suit combined with the winds of flight-"

"Okay, yeah, I got it. Any sign of hypothermia?"

"All of them."

Tony cursed. "Alright, where are we? And where's the closest hospital?"

"Captain Rogers will stop breathing before you reach the closest one. The safest bet is to get him warmed up the 'old-fashioned' way."

"I am not getting naked for him."

In Tony's hard, metal arms, Steve chuckled. "N-n-neither am-m I."

"What about the super serum; that's got to help, right?"

"Nonetheless, Captain Rogers requires heat. Right now."

"Alright, alright!" Tony dove for the cover of a forest and plunged them into darkness, holding Steve closer and trying not to scratch him with passing branches.

"T-t-tony... I-I f-f-f-feel numb."

Well... it seemed he wouldn't have to worry about the scratches. Tony dropped to the ground with a _thud_ and lay Steve down gently. "Alright, Cap, you owe me one." The suit peeled away and Tony stepped out before lowering himself to the ground and gathering Steve in his arms.

Steve coughed and spluttered, reaching up to grab those arms for something to hold onto, his head pillowed in Tony's lap. When he accomplished this, the inventor jumped but didn't let go. "Jesus, Steve, you're freezing! You're like one giant-"

"Don't say it." Steve was clenching his jaw to stop the stutter.

"Actually I was going to say ice cube."

Steve didn't reply. Instead, he closed his eyes and curled himself into a ball, rolling onto his side and clutching at his knees. "T-thank you," he whispered.

"Hey, we're not out of the woods yet. Literally. I'm calling for back-up. Jarvis?"

"Already done, Sir."

"How long?"

"Approximately twenty minutes."

"That's good. That's not long, eh, Steve?"

Silence.

"Steve?!" Tony slapped his face a couple times and _damn _that skin was cold.

Cap groaned and shifted his head a bit, coming to once again.

"Hey, no sleeping. Not yet."

"Fire."

"You've only got to wait twenty minutes."

"F-f-f-f-"

"Alright, fine. Just... hang in there." Tony used his gauntlet to blast a pile of wood he'd gathered and set it alight. The flame erupted and made quick work of devouring the bark, growing bigger with each passing second. Tony shoved his arms under Steve's armpits and hauled him closer to the fire. "Have I mentioned- unf! You've gained weight?"

"Y-y-you callin' me f-f-fat, Stark?"

Tony barked out a laugh and settled Steve by the fire, once again resting the blonde's head in his lap. "Yup. You're about as unfit as it gets."

Steve either chuckled or shivered or both.

The silence stretched on.

"I'm s-s-s-sorry."

"What?"

"S-sorry."

"No, _for_ what?"

"F-f-f-for being a j-j-jackass."

Tony smirked. "Yeah, you were."

"Sh-shut up."

"Weren't you in the middle of something? I didn't quite catch those first words."

Steve whacked his thigh weakly. "H-h-hate you."

"You love me."

"N-nope. Pretty sure i-it's hate."

Tony grinned. It died as quickly as it came. "I'm sorry too. I was sticking my nose where it didn't belong."

"In s-someone else's business?"

"Up your ass trying to find that stupid stick."

Steve nearly died of laughter – literally. He couldn't breathe and Tony turned him over to spit out some more water and whatever else the Avenger might have ingested that day. And the day before. When he was calm, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Tony. I just-" He closed his eyes. "I'm just trying to a-adjust. Peggy was the one person who could tie me back to where- _when_ I came from and then she's just..."

"Gone?"

"I love her."

Tony nodded sympathetically. "I loved her too. In a totally platonically different way, of course. I call her Aunt Peggy, so obviously."

"Stop trying to make things less awkward. You're making it worse."

"Hey, you stopped stuttering!"

He smiled a little. "Yeah. Help me sit up?"

Wordlessly, Tony helped his friend to sit on his own, but Tony remained close by – less than an inch away. "Feel better?"

"Yeah."

"Jarvis?"

"No hypothermia to speak of."

"That serum works _fast_."

Steve nodded. "It's saved my life more times than I can count. But it wasn't the serum that saved me today. It was you."

Aw shit. Tony wasn't good with this emotional crap. Well, not _crap_ but... oh hell. He just wasn't good at this and talking about it with him was almost always painful. Steve pulled a face that said he was anticipating just that, but that he was going to push through anyway. What he was going to say apparently needed to be said.

Steve laid a freezing hand on Tony's shoulder. "I know I've said this already, but thank you. Not just for saving me but for trying to make sure I was okay before going on a mission. For caring. For having compassion."

There was a huge lump in Tony's throat that he didn't know how to get past other than swallowing it – and right now that was proving rather difficult. He covered Steve's hand in his own and nodded. A few seconds later, he found his voice. Time for a change of subject. "Mind telling me how you got back in the jet after you were blown out of it?"

Steve winced but complied, shifting closer so that they were almost thigh-to-thigh. Tony didn't mind. "I remember the cold air sucking me in; being tossed and twirled and flipped. I didn't know where I was or where I would land. I was just thankful it was water. A split second later I took it back. I was assaulted with all of these... _memories_. Just... painful flashbacks. And the water... was so cold..."

Tony held up a hand to stop him. "Steve, you don't have to-"

"I've had breakdowns like that before," he plowed on. "Just never in water. Those kinds of meltdowns usually end in a lot of... of sobbing." _Whoosh_. There went his masculinity, followed close behind by his ego while his pride hobbled along slowly after them. "Which obviously wasn't good when you're underwater. I managed to inhale a lot but when I came to, I was miraculously close to the surface and I broke it. I knew I couldn't swim forever so I looked for somewhere to... stop. In the distance, I saw what I thought looked like the jet. I followed my gut and swam for it.

"I made it there but you and the pilots were gone. I prayed you all hadn't been lost. I would've gone to search for you if I didn't think I wouldn't have made it. I grabbed onto the handle and lifted myself onto the bench, just to rest for a minute. But I was plagued by nightmares and a tidal wave crashed in and I was in a jet and I couldn't stop thinking about that last phone call to Peggy-" He was starting to hyperventilate.

Tony placed both hands on Steve's shoulders and turned so that they were face to face. "Hey, listen to me! Where are you right now?"

Steve was looking at him but he wasn't really seeing. He didn't reply.

"Steve! Where are you?"

"I-I-" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I don't know."

"Think! Who am I?"

"Howard?"

Tony ground his teeth. "Do I _sound_ like my father to you? Does the shit that comes out of my mouth honestly sound like something someone would say in the forties? Honestly? Be real with me, Spangles."

"Howard used to call me that."

He did? "Fine. Capsicle."

Steve's face hardened. "Don't call me that. I _hate_ it when you call me that."

"Who's 'you'? Who am I?"

The confusion was back. Tony could practically see the gears turning in Steve's head. "... Tony?"

"Tony who?"

"Tony Stark."

"What year is it?"

"... not 1945."

"But what... _year_?"

"... 2012?"

"Yes! Yes, do you see me? Can you see me?"

It was like the clouds parted and sunlight streamed through. Steve blinked the clouds away. "I-I see you." He grabbed Tony's wrists. "I see you."

Tony smiled in relief. "I see you too."

**A/N. Sorry about anything out of character. I just wanted to portray Steve as human and able to break and lash out and with a sense of humour (though that last part didn't really come out much here did it?) Also, I don't know the extent of the super serum and I'm sorry if I got any of the health or medical things wrong. A fire probably isn't enough to cure hypothermia but like I said, this was just written to stir up some feels. I thought I'd post it. Anyway, hope you liked the story! If you did, please feel free to leave a review! It would be much appreciated :)**


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